


i'll stop the world and melt with you

by quibbler



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Sky High (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-05
Updated: 2015-03-12
Packaged: 2018-03-16 09:38:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3483368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quibbler/pseuds/quibbler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What happens when the son of two famous superheroes starts his first year at SHIELD Academy but doesn't know what his own powers are? Follow our hero through life, love, superpowers, and worst of all, <i>high school</i>.</p><p>Sky High AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. everybody wants to rule the world

**Author's Note:**

> This has been in the works since September 2014, so it's about time I get this published. An AU about superpowers in a world with superpowers? _You betcha_.
> 
> I own nothing--characters belong to Marvel and the idea of the superpowered high school is from Sky High, a cult classic. See if you can spot the numerous references throughout the story.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the first day of SHIELD Academy and Leo Fitz has a small secret that's eating him up: he doesn't have any powers.

Sunny mornings always seem to give a sense of hope, but Leo Fitz is not feeling hopeful today. It certainly doesn't help that he isn't a morning person, but today is an especially terrible day. Dread has been collecting in his gut for several months now, and he thinks maybe he can convince his mother to let him stay home sick, even though it's the first day of school. But his mother isn't about to let him miss his first day at SHIELD Academy, especially when she is one of the world's most renowned superheroes, even if she is retired.

He crawls out through his window to sit on the roof, his knees hugged tightly to his chest as he stares blankly toward the houses on his street. He really misses his home in Glasgow and the overcast skies that didn't make him squint, a world where he didn't have to join the ranks of the world's superheroes. What's worse is that he is completely unqualified to join them, as it's his first day of high school and he doesn't even have powers. He doesn't know if he'll ever get them, and just as he is about to lie back in terror and embarrassment, a branch of the tree beside his house extends further toward the sky and he turns his head to see his best friend standing on it.

"Your mum told me I'd find you up here," Jemma says, a small smile on her face as she steps off of the tree and moves to sit down next to him. "Are you nervous?"

He manages to return her smile, nudging her shoulder with his. "Not as much as you are right now. Aren't you afraid of heights?"

She shrugs, looking up at the hint of cloud floating over their heads. "This isn't that bad, but you'll have to remind me never to look over the edge of SHIELD." She tilts her head to look at him, concern written all over her features. "It'll be okay, Fitz, I promise. You'll get your powers soon." He swallows hard and nods, unable to voice the thousands of concerns running through his head, and she nudges his shoulder back before pressing her hand to his elbow. "Come on, we're going to be late for the bus!"

\-----

When the bus stops in front of them, Fitz gives Jemma a nervous grin before taking the steps. "Is this the bus to SHIELD Academy?"

The door snaps shut behind Jemma, who jumps and glares at the bus driver. "Was that completely necessary?"

The driver glares back and Fitz turns around just enough to see his best friend rolling her eyes. "Do you want the whole neighbourhood to hear you? There are supervillains everywhere and now they're going to know we're here!" Jemma starts to throw a retort back but the driver holds up a hand. "What's your name?"

He furrows his brows. "Fitz... Well, Leo Fitz, but everyone calls me--"

"--Fitz? As in... Are you a relation to Jolt and Static?"

Fitz feels the eyes of everyone on the bus turn toward him and he tries not to blush too much. Jemma puts a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Those would be my parents, yeah."

"And who are you?" The driver looks a little shaken as he turns toward Jemma.

Fitz can almost see the irritation rolling in waves off of his best friend. "Jemma Simmons. And yes, I'm _that_ Simmons, daughter of the Synthesiser and Toxin."

He tries not to laugh at the bus driver's expression as they find a seat.

The other freshmen on the bus keep sneaking glances at him and Jemma. It is strange knowing that they are legacies that actually garner attention. A few of their peers, though, just don't seem to care.

"Hey, man," a voice says from behind him. Fitz twists around so quickly that he might have pulled a muscle and just avoids wincing when he sees his friend Trip grinning.

Fitz grins back as Jemma waves. "How was your summer?"

"It was tough. Didn't get my powers until a few weeks ago." Fitz supposes Trip sounds as concerned as he can be, but he has always been far more laid back than anyone Fitz has ever met. "Not that I'm showing off here. You gotta wait until we get to school to see them like everyone else."

Fitz nods nervously, trying to return his friend's smile as he twists back to face the front of the bus. Jemma nudges his shoulder with her own. "Don't worry about it, Fitzy."

\-----

“Welcome to SHIELD Academy.”

The gymnasium at SHIELD looks like it belongs in a standard, un-powered high school, but Fitz still looks around in awe. Jemma tries not to smile at her best friend’s unabashed enthusiasm for a life that he isn’t sure suits him yet, but she can’t let herself get too distracted so soon so she turns back to listen halfheartedly to Principal Coulson’s welcome speech. It's already been a few hours of tours and speeches and explanations and she's ready to get this all over with soon.

“In a few moments, you’ll go through power placement--”

Fitz draws a shaky breath and Jemma reaches for his hand, giving it a squeeze. “Power placement?” he mutters, dread hollowing his words.

“Sounds fascist,” she murmurs back, shrugging.

“Power placement is how they decide where you go.” Jemma turns slightly to see Trip smile, though there’s an uneasiness in his eyes that he can’t quite hide.

The girl who had been sitting next to Trip on the bus pipes up. “The hero track or the loser track.” Jemma thinks her name is Skye, but only raises an eyebrow at her comment.

Fitz swallows so hard that Jemma thinks she can almost hear it, even in the strange acoustics of the room. “There’s a loser track?”

Trip shrugs. “I think the preferred term is ‘hero support.’”

The principal leaves to a smattering of applause from the small freshman class and is instead replaced by a woman who looks unassuming, but her left arm is pitch black up past the elbow, strangely catching the light as though it was glittering. She isn’t hiding it--rather, she shows it off. “All right, kids. Listen up. My name is Isabelle Hartley, but you can call me Coach. I’ll be deciding where your future lies: hero or sidekick. When I call your name, you’ll come up here and demonstrate your power. Got it?” A murmur of assent goes through the room. “Johnson, Daisy.”

“It’s Skye.” So Jemma was right. The girl goes to the stage and stands facing the crowd, looking a little bored.

Coach Hartley makes a note on her tablet. “Okay, Skye. What’s your power?”

Skye lets go of the piece of hair she’s been twirling between her fingertips. “You first. It’ll make more sense this way, I swear.” Coach Hartley raises an eyebrow but nods once before the black of her arm creeps up the rest of her skin, keeps going until her entire body turns into what looks like a night sky of stars, twinkling almost ominously as she turns toward Skye. Skye shrugs and a look of concentration passes over her.

When Coach Hartley’s skin begins to fade again, the corners of Skye’s mouth turn up before she relaxes again, watching as the teacher’s skin hardens and blackens again. “Interesting.” Coach taps the tablet screen several times. “Can you weaken someone else’s powers, too?”

“Sometimes, but it doesn't happen often.”

“What about anything affecting yourself?”

Skye frowns. “I adapt to anything thrown at me. Like, if you threw me in a lake, I’d develop gills, but only for as long as I’m in the water. And it's kind of unpredictable, too.”

Coach Hartley nods. “Sidekick, I think. Your powers are too unstable.”

Skye seems to bite the inside of her cheek before she heads off the stage and Jemma fights a smile.

A few more students are called up--ice manipulation, dragonfly wings, invisibility--she keeps tabs on powers rather than names because they're more memorable. She feels nervous for Fitz, who is almost visibly shaking.

"Triplett, Antoine." 

Trip smiles brilliantly and takes the stairs all at once to the stage. "At your service."

Coach barely hides her amusement. "What's your power?"

"I heal faster than most."

There's a pause before the teacher clenches her fist, the blackness of her arm travelling up toward her shoulder. "May I?" Trip nods, bracing himself. Coach swipes her hand at his sleeve, leaving four large gashes behind. Jemma gasps loudly, but at least she doesn't scream like some of the others. Blood drips from the open cuts and she takes a step toward the stage when she sees the dripping stop, the gashes stitching themselves up. She can predict exactly how quickly his body is working to patch him up and she chews her lip, wondering how Trip developed his power in only a few days.

The only thing left that suggests he was injured is the torn, bloodied sleeve of his shirt. Coach nods. "Sidekick. Quick healing won't protect you if you're outnumbered." Trip's face falls but he leaves the stage without complaint. "Simmons, Jemma."

 

Jemma raises her hand. "Here! However, I don't believe in using my powers unless the situation demands it."

Coach Hartley looks at her in disbelief. "Well, here's the situation and I'm demanding it."

"It would be supporting a flawed social construct. A hero-sidekick dichotomy only serves to tear a rift--"

Coach holds up a hand. "So you're not going to show me your powers?" Jemma shakes her head. "Sidekick." A murmur goes through the crowd because a legacy has just been named a sidekick, but Coach Hartley doesn't care. "Okay, let's break for lunch." She looks into the crowd with a smile.

Fitz gulps next to Jemma, his eyes not leaving the stage. "I'm next," he whispers, and it sounds like resignation.

\-----

The lunchroom is noisy and thankfully helps numb Fitz's panic to a dull roar. They've found a table to sit at, somewhere near the edge of the room, and Skye is complaining loudly, partially to let off some steam and partially for everyone's benefit. Fitz thinks that their new friend is a little dramatic, but seems like a fun person to be around and he might appreciate her more if he wasn't so nervous. Jemma sits next to him and he steals her fries like he's always done.

"As if high school wasn't scary enough, we get placed into classes that _shape our futures_ ," she murmurs, assuming her favourite pompous tone of voice. Fitz manages to crack a grin before turning around to scan the room.

He quickly turns back around, his back like a stiff board. "Why is the guy sitting at the table behind us staring at me?"

Jemma frowns before looking over her shoulder, while Trip and Skye peer up as inconspicuously as they can manage, which turns out to be incredibly obvious and not subtle in the slightest. "That's Grant Ward," Trip says, lowering his voice so only they can hear him.

" _That's_ Grant Ward?" Jemma's voice is half an octave higher in disbelief and disapproval, despite her attempt at a whisper. "His mum is a hero and his dad is a supervillain, yeah?"

 

Trip nods and Fitz feels confusion colouring his panic. "So why is he staring at me?"

 

"Your dad got his dad locked away," Skye interjects, and for a moment it seems like she's going to continue but stops herself. The implication of Fitz's father's death hangs in the air.

Jemma nods. "That's right. Quadruple life sentence with no parole until after his third life."

Fitz heaves a sigh in the direction of his lunch. "My first day at SHIELD Academy and I've already made an enemy. Great."

\-----

The gym is silent as Fitz stands on the stage, bouncing on the balls of his feet before he turns to Coach Hartley. "Coach, I--I don't have any powers."

She pulls back, staring at him. "Leopold Fitz, right? How do you not have any powers?" Her voice echoes in the silence and he laughs nervously, unable to form words in his embarrassment. "No portal creation?"

He shakes his head. "Don't think I haven't tried."

She taps several times on her tablet. "What about electrical manipulation like your father?" There's a loud humming that fills the room and for a moment, Fitz is bewildered until he realises exactly what is happening, leaping back right as a bolt of artificial lightning hits the spot where he was just standing. He flies several feet into the air, landing off the stage with a loud crack.

"Are--you-- _mental_? I can't do anything with that, either!"

Coach Hartley peers over the stage. "Never thought I'd live to see the day. Fitz, _sidekick_. I'll call the nurse."


	2. please, please, please let me get what i want

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Upset about the new turn of events, Fitz spends some time trying to reconcile his anxiety about not having powers with acclimating to high school before he talks to his mother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god, this chapter was a lot of fun to write. Look, it's moving along!
> 
> Thank you to Oce, the greatest beta I could ever have. ♥

The gym is abuzz with the news that two legacies are now sidekicks, so Fitz is thankful to have escaped that. He feels a little guilty that Jemma has to deal with the whispers on her own, but he's got a sore back and a lack of powers to concern himself with until she finds him in the hallway after he leaves the nurse's office. "How's your back?"

"The good news is nothing's broken except for my pride. Did you know the nurse has x-ray vision? The bad news is that I might never get my powers." He knows he's rambling since it's always been a bad habit of his, but Jemma is the only one he'll ever be able to talk to about this.

His best friend sighs, looping her arm through his. "Genetically, maybe your powers are latent because your parents were both so gifted. Sometimes, the offspring of two superpowered individuals are just late bloomers." She has a comforting, occasionally brutal sort of logic that keeps his mind from racing too much, but he raises an eyebrow at this.

"So how does that explain you?" Jemma has had her powers since she was four, ever since she cut her cheek flying down the slide and managed to heal it within minutes. She's only unknowingly repeating the nurse's words, but it's still more comforting coming from her. "You're a right prodigy. You could have easily made hero class."

"I'm not into labels." Her cheeks flush despite the scoffing sound she makes. "Genetics can't predict everything, much to my dismay. Besides, your powers don't define who you are, Fitz. You're brilliant without them."

He smiles despite the panic that's been coursing through his veins as he turns to look at his best friend. His stomach has been doing flips lately when he looks at her and it isn't entirely unpleasant, but how can he tell Jemma that?

In his distraction, he runs directly into someone. Jemma immediately gets pulled back before she thinks of letting go, a noise of surprise leaving her. The person he ran into is tall, much taller than Fitz is, and when he finally looks up, he gulps, possibly loud enough for the entire hallway to hear.

Grant Ward stands about half a foot taller than Fitz, with dark hair, dark eyes, and an even darker scowl that looks permanently set into his features. "Stop making eyes at your girlfriend and watch where you're going."

Fitz is too frozen with fear to respond as he watches the other boy's retreating back. It's Jemma that recovers quickly, as usual. "He's not my boyfriend!"

He can't help feel his heart sink a little.

\-----

Classes at SHIELD Academy are far less daunting than Fitz had imagined. He has never struggled academically, and between himself and Jemma, they never have to worry about grades. This is a fact that doesn't escape Skye's notice.

"Okay, maybe I won't end up a SHIELD dropout with you two geniuses as friends," she says, grinning as she works her way through the science homework. "I can't believe that sidekicks have so many science classes. You'd think the heroes would have to use their brains, too, but apparently they rely more on brute strength and intimidation."

Jemma rolls her eyes and Fitz gives a weak chuckle, doodling absentmindedly in the corner of a bit of scrap paper. "That's why heroes need sidekicks, Skye, so we can actually strategise and make sure they don't get themselves killed," Jemma half-jokes. "But really, this is all quite important. Dr. Hall expects us all to do well in his chemistry class and if I've got anything to say about it, we will."

Trip grins, leaning back against the base of the couch. "C'mon girl, we do not need another one of your speeches about the sciences. We've heard it a million times."

Jemma looks put out and Fitz can't help but smile. "Me more than anyone else, but I wouldn't mind hearing it again."

Skye lets out a loud groan. "If we keep interrupting with speeches and tangents and tales of valiant bravery, I'm _definitely_ going to fail. Fitzsimmons, what did you get for number 6?" Their new friend insists on the nickname and Fitz can't really complain--he and Jemma are nearly inseparable, and, in true Jemma fashion, she decides that it's logical.

Jemma is about to answer when the front door swings open. "Really, Bob, I think I have bruises under my arms. Can you carry me in _any_ other way?" Fitz watches as Jemma's older half-brother stomps into the house, shaking out wet hair before he sees the group in the front room. "Oi, Jem, having a party, are we?"

"Hardly, Lance. We're doing homework." Jemma rolls her eyes. "I didn't think you were visiting home for another week, at least."

The door slams shut. "We were in the neighbourhood," a new voice says, and Fitz sees Bobbi Morse there, too, her uniform dripping onto the rug beneath her. "Hey, pipsqueak. Who are the new faces?"

"Bobbi, meet Antoine Triplett and Skye Johnson, our friends from sidekick class. Trip, Skye, this is Bobbi Morse, also known as Mockingbird." Hunter clears his throat and Jemma rolls her eyes so ferociously that Fitz thinks she might injure herself. "And that's my dumb brother Lance Hunter, also known as Strike." _They were married once_ lingers in the air, and Fitz tries not to laugh at the mirth lurking behind Jemma's expression. She tucks one foot under her other leg, turning toward him with a smirk. "Ka _boom_."

Bobbi cuts off Hunter's snort of indignation. "Nice to meet you both. I'm going to get some food."

"Bob, don't drip over the carpet!"

"Hey, it's not my fault it's raining. I can't predict the weather!"

Hunter shouts something back that perhaps only Bobbi understands, as she appears through the doorway just to give him a rude hand gesture. "I still can't believe my sister got stuck in sidekick class." He shakes his head, arms crossed.

There is a snort from the kitchen. "That's rich, coming from you, sidekick."

"Listen, if you didn't have me around, you'd have a much harder time of disabling the enemies. This is a partnership of equals!"

"SIDEKICK." Hunter disappears into the kitchen to argue with his ex-wife.

"You'd think that saving the world would be more glamourous," Jemma says, sighing as she turns back to the group. "So, where were we?"

\-----

"Remember, kids, don't give a speech in the middle of a battle. Always think about whether or not the situation is appropriate." The bell rings and their teacher jumps slightly, turning to look at the clock. "Would you look at that? Where does time go? Now, don't forget you have an essay about timing due Thursday. Kara, could you hand out last week's assignments as everyone leaves?"

The teacher's assistant has always been calm and a little aloof, but Jemma jokes that someone has to be the serious one in the room when Mr. Garrett is around. Fitz picks up his paper and leaves the room, waiting for his friends outside.

Skye is the first one to appear, brandishing her homework like a handkerchief. "A passing grade!" She slaps Fitz's arm and he jumps, about to snark at her when Jemma appears at his side and Skye beams. "See, you two are going to keep me from being the biggest disappointment."

"Let's see, then." Jemma takes the paper out of Skye's outstretched hand, ignoring her friend's squawk of indignation.

"C'mon, Skye, you can do better than a C," Trip says, appearing seemingly out of nowhere, nudging Skye's shoulder with his elbow as he takes the paper from Jemma and hands it back to its owner.

Fitz grins. Maybe this year won't be so bad after all.

\-----

He's been mostly avoiding telling his mother that he doesn't have power, though Fitz is certain that she suspects something. He comes up with nightly excuses, mostly doing homework with his friends or staying at Jemma's. (The latter is frustrating in so many ways, but he chooses to ignore that in the impending panic of telling Isobel Fitz that her son is powerless.)

Tonight, he forces himself to stay at home, at least long enough to eat dinner. He is certain that his mum knows exactly why he is fidgeting, and his suspicions are confirmed when she looks over her glasses at him, like she's developed the power to read his thoughts overnight. "Is something the matter?"

He hesitates and reaches for his glass, only to choke on his water. It takes him a full two minutes to recover, during which Isobel still stares at him over her glasses, her plate untouched. He draws a breath, wiping tears from his eyes, though whether those are from frustration or from choking, he can no longer tell. "I might not have any powers." The words come out in a rush, a breath he's been holding for too long.

Isobel reaches a hand to cover his shaking one on the table. "I might've guessed." Her stern expression softens and Fitz feels his heart unclench slightly. His mother is not always as warm as she once was, if the stories are true, and he knows some of it is because of his father's death, but she has always been there for him in his darkest moments and in this instant, he knows his mother won't abandon him. "Not having any powers doesn't make you a lesser person, Leopold. It only means you have to be more resourceful and you've certainly never had any trouble with that."

He rests his other hand over hers, squeezing it gently. "What if I never get my powers?"

She withdraws her hand, smiling as she picks up her fork. "You're still a Fitz."

\-----

Jemma is already sitting on the stretch of roof outside of his bedroom window, staring up at the sky. He tries not to grin as he slides his window open, holding both arms out to balance himself as he joins her, sitting down with a loud _oof_. "Fancy seeing you here."

She makes a face at him before sobering. "So, what did your mum say?"

"Essentially everything you've said to me," he replies, staring at his feet. "She reminded me that I'm still a Fitz."

Jemma makes a noise that he thinks might mean _I told you so_ , so he turns and sticks his tongue out at her. She laughs. "Like your mum would ever say anything else. Powers don't make a person, Fitzy." She smiles and there's something behind her smile that makes him think she knows something he doesn't, like she has always known. Jemma knows more about him that he might know about himself and for that he's incredibly grateful for having her in his life. "Besides, each day might bring you closer to your powers."

Fitz sighs, lying back against the roof. "I hope you're right."


	3. we're through being cool

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The pieces fall into place for Fitz... Sort of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really bad at chapter summaries.
> 
> Thank you to Oce for being the greatest beta!

The number of theoretical classes the sidekicks take makes Fitz feel as though perhaps this could be a normal high school, but then he steps into his mad science class and is immediately thankful that SHIELD isn't normal in the slightest. They're taught about the effects of radiation and how certain superpowers can affect others, how to build weapons that non-powered people could only dream of.

It's these lessons that intrigue Fitz the most. He has always had an interest in how things work, reading up on engineering books in his spare time. He answers the most questions during those class hours and he can see Jemma grinning out of the corner of his eye each time his hand shoots up into the air.

"Maybe your power is being a serious know-it-all," Skye says, smirking at him over the tablet she's been given to work with. The computer lab is exceptionally state-of-the-art, and while each student is assigned a computer with which to work during their computing class, Skye has managed to sweet talk her way into obtaining one of the many tablets that only advanced students are allowed to use. "You probably could've gotten one of these, too, the way you're futzing around with code."

Fitz grins. "Yeah, but I'm not as good with charming others as you are." His eyes flit toward the window where the predicted storm is coming in quickly, dark clouds rolling in like they've got a deadline.

Skye heaves a great sigh, flicking her hair behind her shoulder with one hand. "Not many are, my dear Fitz." He hears Jemma's poor attempt at suppressing her laughter from his other side. He turns to share a grin with her--

\--then the window shatters in a blinding flash.

His first reaction is to hit the floor, his palms slamming into the ground littered with shards of glass. He must be bleeding because his hands are red, but he can't feel it because of the adrenaline coursing through his veins and pounding in his ears, the screams around him hardly registering in the shock. He barely notes that Skye has a large cut on her cheek as she scrambles past him.

Fitz should be more concerned with getting out of the room, but he can't take his eyes off of the storm overhead. His thoughts go into overdrive as he considers how quickly the storm must have started because judging by the flashes of lightning and what looks to be hail mixed with the torrential rain, something must be horribly wrong.

The rainwater starts to seep into the room and he can just barely hear the sizzle of electronics short circuiting, perhaps ready to explode. There's a tug on his left sleeve that he ignores, too dazed and too focused on the destruction happening around him. His fingers start to sting as he stands and takes a step forward, raising a hand.

It feels like an electric current travelling down his arm. Fitz watches as frayed wires reconnect themselves, metal pieces reforming into whole, smooth parts. He feels rather than sees how everything is fixed, like it's always instinctive, only buried beneath the surface. He belatedly notes that his hands are no longer bleeding, which is most certainly Jemma's doing.

Screens are no longer cracked, their displays smooth and functional like they were before the lightning bolt struck the window. The rain has lessened but he hears the telltale clattering of the hail somewhere amidst the ringing in his ears. Fitz feels the rain seeping from the carpet through his shoes as he stares in awe at what he's doing.

There's a loud cracking noise from above and Fitz sees the shadow against the wall next to him before he sees the motherboard fracturing from the wall. A girl in a sodden dress is on the floor, likely concussed from the explosion and he reaches his free hand out to stop the broken board from falling. "TRIP, SOMEONE, ANYONE, GET HER OUT OF THE WAY." He barely registers movement in his line of vision but he knows the girl has been moved. Relief floods through him, mingled with what can only be exhaustion.

"Fitz, _move_. We have to get out of here." The voice is loud and urgent and spoken directly into his ear and he jumps as he turns to see Jemma looking frantic. He stares at her and she stares back; it takes a moment but then he nods before running out after her.

\-----

Two-thirds of the freshman sidekick class are now crowded in the nurse's office and out in the hall. Fitz sits hunched over in a chair in the hallway, Jemma's hand loosely draped over his shoulder. He can almost feel her teeth chattering in their limited physical contact, so he shrugs off the blanket that had been passed to him so he can give it to her.

"Thanks," she murmurs as he tosses it over her shoulders, glancing at her before he turns back around. She tucks her knees beneath her chin, neatly folding herself into the chair. They remain silent for a few more moments before she taps his elbow with a finger. "Do you want to talk about it?"

He chew his lip so violently that he thinks it might split open at any moment, so he turns to look up at her. "Apparently I am just a late bloomer. What the hell did I do?"

Jemma's eyebrows furrow. "If I had to wager a guess, I'd say you're a technopath. You know, the ability to control technology with your mind?" He nods, trying to force his brain to take stock of the situation. "I did think there was something strange happening the night you told your mum about how you didn't have powers, but I didn't know what it was. Felt like a bad static shock."

Fitz twists in his seat, watching beads of water drip down Jemma's cheek from her wet hair. "Well, it looks like I'll have some interesting news to tell Mum when I get home tonight."

She chuckles and he gives her a nervous smile back, opening his mouth to thank her for healing his cuts when someone interrupts him. "Excuse me, Mr. Fitz. Would you mind coming with me?" He looks up to see Dean May standing in front of him.

"S-sure," he replies, giving a terrified look in Jemma's direction before standing.

He trails behind the older woman in silence for several minutes before he realises he isn't being taken to an office for a reprimand. Rather, they're walking in the direction of the destroyed computer lab. "You're not in trouble," Dean May says, and he lets his shoulders fall in relief. "I've been told that you discovered your powers in a moment of crisis."

He stops for a moment before remembering that he should be following her. "Yes, Dean May, I did."

"Just call me May, Mr. Fitz."

"Then call me Fitz, please."

May stops and turns to look at him, one corner of her mouth turned up. "We need your help repairing the computers, if you're willing. It'll certainly save us a small fortune."

Fitz spends the rest of the afternoon in the lab, trying to piece together what happened as he pieces together what was broken.

\-----

Isobel breaks her one self-imposed rule of superhero retirement when she returns home to the news by portaling to a nearby shop to pick up a celebratory cake. Fitz spends the rest of the night in a happy daze and is still grinning when he gets off the bus when they arrive at SHIELD.

"You've got your head in the clouds today," Jemma observes, watching as he nearly runs into the desk before managing to sit down with some success. "It must be a good thing. I mean, look, you've just broken down the wall between heroes and sidekicks. Not to mention your serotonin levels are a lot better."

At this, he sticks out his tongue. "Stop monitoring me, Jem," he says, though there's little malice behind his words. He glances toward the front of the room where May has suddenly appeared. She nods once and he smiles back before she approaches his desk. "Did I miss something in the lab yesterday, May?"

May shakes her head and Jemma stares at his casual form of addressing the Dean. "Congratulations, Fitz, you've been moved to the hero class."


	4. sooner or later

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fitz gets transferred to the hero class and runs into a little trouble.

Fitz blinks rapidly. He has never heard of anyone getting transferred between classes, though he reasons that given the circumstances of his emerging power, it's only logical. Still, he has spent the past few weeks making friends with the sidekick class, accepting that his powers are not what define him, and now his new outlook on life is being turned on its head as he follows May to the correct class on his new schedule.

He stares at the half-sheet of paper in his hands, noting just how few science classes he'll be taking now and how many more training courses there are. He suppresses a sigh, wishing that if he couldn't stay in sidekick class, at least let Jemma go with him. He knows that her powers are far more developed than his and if she had only agreed to participate in the demonstration, she would've been on the hero track from the beginning.

May stops outside of the classroom and Fitz does the same, narrowly avoiding running into her as she turns toward him. "Just give it time."

He frowns at her cryptic advice, but she gives him what must be a rare smile before she leaves again. He turns to face the door, takes a deep breath, and walks in.

Fitz immediately realises that he is in way over his head when the first thing he has to do is duck. Narrowly avoiding being decapitated by a large ball of ice that shatters behind him, he nearly turns back around to tell Dean May that they've made a mistake, that he would much rather be in sidekick class if it meant sparing his life from certain doom in high school.

"SORRY!" A voice yells. Fitz sighs--he has a lot to catch up on.

\-----

Fitz has a pounding headache at the end of the double hour. With a newly found power, the best method of training is to ease into it, but in order for him to catch up to the rest of the hero class, he needs to practice twice as hard, if not more. He stares listlessly at the circuit board he had completed during the class, his hands shaking as he hands it to Coach Hartley. It had taken him the entire afternoon to repair the computer lab, certainly, but this time he had been determined to focus on the smaller details, which only made his head throb more.

"Nice work, Rookie," she says, giving him a nod as he leaves the gym. He smiles for the first time in two hours as he leaves.

"Hey, Fitz!" He whirls around to see the source of the voice, the same boy who nearly killed him earlier, jogging toward him with another boy on his heels. "Sorry again about earlier, but it's good to see you in this class. I'm Donnie and this is Seth." Seth waves with one hand, smiling.

Fitz nods. "Nice to meet you both."

Seth seems to catch the eye of someone behind Fitz, nodding in their direction. "Feel free to hang out with us if you want," he says, before joining his friends, Donnie following him this time.

Fitz turns to watch them both go, one eyebrow raised as he sees Seth and Donnie's friends. He recognises Mr. Garrett's assistant Kara and Grant Ward--Fitz studiously avoids glancing at him longer than strictly necessary--but what confuses him the most is the girl in the flower dress. Raina, he remembers.

The girl from the sidekick class that he saved yesterday.

"How'd it go?" He jumps at the sound of Jemma's voice, spinning around and nearly falling over. She is smiling, but the smile falters as his eyebrows furrow. "Headache?" she asks, sympathy written on her features. He nods once, wincing, and she closes her eyes to focus.

It takes a minute, but the headache begins to ebb away into a duller pain, his face relaxing, the muscles of his shoulders no longer tense. "Thanks."

Her smile returns in full force as she digs through her bag. "I figured you would need a snack," she says, pulling out a chocolate bar, which he happily swipes from her outstretched hand. "So, you never answered my question."

He unwraps the sweet with gusto, taking a bite. "Anti-climactic, if I'm being honest," he replies around a mouthful of chocolate. Jemma makes a face of disgust that he ignores. "Eventually I suppose I'll need to work on the whole running around thing, but today I built a circuit board without touching anything, hence the headache."

She sighs, moving to stand next to him so she can thread her arm through his. "Well, let's get to Garrett's class before we're late. We don't want him telling more stories as punishment, do we?"

He scoffs. "Like hell, we do."

\-----

At the end of the day, the entirety of SHIELD Academy is quiet. Most classrooms are dark, but there is one that remains dimly lit, a testament to the teacher's pervasive personal preferences.

"That was an impressive display you both put on yesterday."

The two boys in question exchange apprehensive looks. "Thank you, sir," they say in unison. As freshmen, it was difficult to find a place in a school that produced the world's superheroes, and if it meant playing teacher's pet, that was a small sacrifice to make.

Seth was the first to speak up on his own. "We're not going to get in trouble for that, right? You promised no one would be able to trace the storm to us."

The voice laughs. "Don't worry, son. You'll be safe."

\-----

Fitz decides he must be dreaming. He must be asleep and having the worst nightmare of his life.

He looks at the gun in his hands and the target several yards away. Coach Hill is standing behind him, her arms crossed over her chest, legs planted as wide as her hips as she watches. Despite her serious look, she is smiling at him. "Come on, Fitz, you can do this."

"I'm not so sure about that," he mutters, raising the gun with both hands, his hands shaking as he attempts to take aim. He looks around the room in a moment of distraction, seeing everyone else faring better than him in their training, and he studiously ignores the fact that Grant Ward is one of the teaching assistants in this class. "Coach, I really don't think I'm cut out for this hero lark."

She lets her hands drop to her sides, approaching him. "Think about it this way. It's simple physics. The bullet moves at a certain speed in a parabolic arc, right?" He nods, going through the equations quickly in his head. "And depending on the gun, you could probably control what's going on inside it."

He closes his eyes, drawing a deep breath. He starts to map out the components of the gun, the mechanics of how the bullet is fired, and opens one eye, steadying his hands and taking the shot. His arm recoils and he feels twin sharp pains shooting up his arms.

Coach Hill hits a button and the target moves closer to them. Fitz sees that his shot is rather left of a bull's-eye, but it's still within the target. "Not bad for your first shot. Let's go try something else that maybe doesn't make your hands shake so badly."

He feels safest practising something that doesn't have a sharp edge, partially for the safety of everyone around him, and mostly for his own safety. Jemma isn't here to help heal his cuts and he'd rather not have to get sent to the nurse's office. There is a collection of practice staffs that sits mostly untouched and he makes his way to that station, moving away from Coach so he can perhaps get away with minimal effort.

There is hardly a single staff that isn't taller than he is, so Fitz resigns himself to grabbing the shortest one, swinging it around and feeling like a complete idiot. His mind starts to wander as he spins the staff with both hands, only half-paying attention to the instructor, preoccupied with the idea that his friends are somewhere else, that his newly developed powers are nowhere near the level of anyone else's in the hero class, that this is the first time he's ever been separated from Jemma for more than a few hours--

\--there is a loud _clang_ followed by a grunt. Fitz turns around in horror to see that the staff he had been holding had gone flying, his grip too loose from daydreaming, and had hit Grant Ward in the leg behind him at the knives station. "Oh, bollocks."

"Watch what you're doing, sidekick." Ward sounds as angry as Fitz has ever heard him, which has thankfully been very rare. The younger boy takes a few steps back, hands held up in surrender or defense, of which he isn't entirely sure.

"I'm sorry! I wasn't paying attention and I accidentally let go and I didn't know it was going to hit you, or that you were behind me at all. Please don't kill me." He sees Ward's hand light up in flames and instantly cowers, fighting the urge to plead for his life again.

There's a screech that causes him to double over, hands over his ears, though not before he notices Ward do the same. A pair of feet stops near them and Fitz looks up to see a girl with curly hair, hands on her hips, looking irate. "Will you boys stop preening and either go back to ignoring each other or start talking like civilised human beings?"

Ward straightens to glare at the girl and Fitz stands up, too, afraid to speak as Ward opens his mouth. "Callie, keep your nose out of other's people's business."

The girl named Callie scoffs. "When you're acting like Fitz personally ruined your life, it becomes everyone's business. Grow up, Grant."

Coach Hill blows her whistle at that precise and incredibly convenient time. Fitz makes a dash for the locker room.

\-----

Their usual lunch table should be empty right about now, but Fitz is sitting there already, fidgeting with his apple. Jemma frowns, bringing her lunch tray to the table and sliding in next to him. "Penny for your thoughts?"

He shakes his head once, turning to meet her eyes. He looks apprehensive, even more so than he did before he got his powers, and Jemma tries to squash the overwhelming need to comfort and protect her best friend. "I had a run-in with Ward today," he says listlessly, his eyes betraying the lack of emotion in his voice.

She purses her lips as she turns away in the other direction, glancing around the room until she spots her target. "Wait here, yeah? Skye and Trip should be here soon." He opens his mouth to perhaps ask where she's going, but by then she is already making her way across the room, determined. She stops in front of the table where a lone person is sitting and drops down in the seat across from Grant Ward. "Hello, Ward. You probably don't know who I am. Jemma Simmons, best friend of Fitz's?"

Ward glances up, looking mildly started and she thinks this is a step in the right direction. "Who gave you permission to sit here?"

"Please, as if I need permission to sit anywhere." She just manages not to scoff at him as she threads her fingers together over the table. "Look, I know you're holding an impossibly ridiculous grudge against Fitz, but it's not like he did anything to you. You've got to leave your parents' history out of this, make amends. You know, stop scowling so much because you'll never make friends that way."

He raises an eyebrow at her, gesturing between the two of them. "And you think this is the way to make friends? Have I got a surprise for you, Simmons."

She shrugs. "Just don't try to live down your father's reputation, that's all. You're casting your own shadow--stop living in someone else's."

Ward seems about to say something snappy when Jemma feels a hand on her shoulder. "Hey, girl, we're sitting with Ward now?" Trip is smiling despite the disbelief colouring his voice. She turns around to see Skye, trying not to snicker behind her hand and failing fantastically, and Fitz, who looks as white as a sheet, carrying both his lunch and hers.

She beams, tapping the tabletop with one hand. "Go on."

Ward stands up and picks up his tray to leave, but not before giving her a curious look. The four of them watch as he walks away from the table. Fitz rounds on her. "Jemma, what the _hell_ do you think you're doing?"

She only smiles, knowing that she got through to Ward, if only just a little bit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just so you all know, Garrett's teaching assistant Kara is Agent 33!


End file.
